Four Years Later
by ceirdwenfc
Summary: This is a one-shot that takes place four years after the last chapter of Deathly Hallows, but long before the epilogue. It fits into canon.


Back Story - After the war, and the death of Fred, George was lost, drinking and what not - a lot. He meets a lovely healer in training at a cafe and after countless coffees, they date for several months; a really lovely time with some angst thrown in for good measure. Something happens (her strict brother finds out about their romance, doesn't like it one bit, threatens to kill George, and eventually they break up over the strain of her family's interference.) They have not seen each other since as she had travelled to France to continue her healer training when her time at St. Mungo's was finished, and she has just recently returned to Britain and to St. Mungo's.

This is where this story begins.

**Four Years Later – **

"Can you help me?" The woman's voice was full of fear and panic as she carried the little boy in her arms. She was a tall black woman with long dark braids tied up in a messy pony tail. Her son was a lighter complexion, the color of coffee with dark auburn/copper hair that framed his face in loose curls. He was either three or four years old. "Please help me," she begged anyone in a green uniform that strayed across her path. "Please help me! He fell off of his broomstick. I think he hurt his head. Please." She was crying and pleading and turned towards any hospital staff person, begging for anyone to assist her son.

"What happened?" Mared Davies asked, taking the boy in her arms and placing him gently on a padded stretcher.

"He fell off of his broomstick. I think he banged his head on a rock or something. Can you help him?"

Mared smiled at her. "We'll help him. How long has he been unconscious?"

"I don't know. I…I think…thirty minutes."

"What's his name?"

"Fred. His name is Fred." She reached out to touch his hair and as Mared wheeled him down the corridor, she covered her face in her hands, weeping for her son.

"You wait here," Mared called back to her. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

The minutes passed like an eternity in the waiting area as Mared examined Fred's head and assessed his condition and injuries. She waved her wand over his temple, saying an incantation. She then did the same motion and incantation over the back of his head and his forehead. As he stirred slightly, she used her fingers to feel around his head for any other hidden wounds or injuries, but could find none. Slowly, Fred opened his eyes. When he realized Mared was not his mother, he began to cry.

"Oh, Fred," Mared said in a friendly way. She smiled gently. "It's all right," she said, soothingly, patting his head. "You're mum is waiting for you in the waiting area. I'm Mared Davies. I'm a healer, and I helped your head feel better. How does your head feel? Better?"  
He stopped crying, but did not speak.

"Does your head feel any better, Fred?"

He nodded his head and gave her a small smile. She returned his smile and gave him a berry flavored lollipop and carried him out into the waiting area.

"Fred's mum?" she called out. His mum jumped up and ran over to meet them. "He's fine. He had some bumps and some swelling, but we stopped that right up. You're better now, right, Fred?" she asked, turning to him as he nodded in agreement, sucking on his lollipop.

"Oh, thank G-d, how can I ever thank you?"

"Don't be silly. I'm happy I was able to help."

"George, George! Over here." A red-haired man ran over to them.

"Is he all right? Come here, Freddie?" He reached out and took him from Mared's arms, hugging his son tightly. "No more riding on Daddy's broom. Understand?" He turned to Mared, "thank you so much, thank –" He stopped speaking abruptly, but continued with surprise in his shaking voice, "Mared. Thank you so much." She smiled at George Weasley as he touched her hand. She hadn't seen him since he had come to see her at St. Mungo's; to say goodbye. That was nearly four years ago, after Peter and Zoe's wedding and the fiasco with her brother. Occasionally, he would deposit gold into her Gringott's account for the items that she had left him to sell in his joke shop.

"Hello George. It's really good to see you. This must be your wife."

"Angelina," he said, "and you've met Fred, and the other one over there with my sister is Roxanne." He pointed towards the waiting area behind him.

"Twins! Brilliant, and one on the way, I see," she said, nodding towards Angelina's burgeoning stomach. "What a beautiful family," she said graciously.

"Actually," Angelina interjected, giving George a meaningful look, "we're not married anymore. We've been divorced for about two years."

"Two years? I'm sorry to hear that. Well, as for Fred, I would lock up the broomsticks and keep some bruise paste handy in your cupboard. He's bound to get banged up much more now that I see who his father is – now there's a lot of mayhem to live up to."

Angelina laughed. "You have no idea. Come on poppin, let's go see Aunt Ginny, and Jim's just arrived. Let Daddy talk to his friend for a minute before we go." She took Fred from George and put him on his feet, and they walked over to Ginny sitting with Roxanne and another man. This new man stood up and greeted Angelina with a kiss when she arrived at the chairs, awkwardly sitting down with his help.

"It's been a long time," Mared began.

"It has. We should…uh…get together…you know…have coffee….or something."

"Sure."

George reached out, but hesitated to touch her hand again. "I've missed you."

"It seems as though you've managed to find something to occupy your time."

He looked into her eyes bemused, finally smiling and then they both laughed.

"I have to get back," she said, turning away. "Take care, George." She brushed his sleeve with her fingertips as their eyes met again before they both turned away in departing.

**One Week Later - **

"Mared," Ian called. "This arrived for you at reception. The dragon lady was not happy." Mared laughed, taking the parcel from Ian's hands. "How do you say it again?" he asked.

"Merch draig."

"Well, what is it? It took all of my self-control not to open it right there on the spot."

Mared shook her head in astonishment at Ian's curiosity. He was worse than her niece and nephews at Christmas. She opened the brown wrapping paper to reveal a bouquet of daffodils. She stared at them, remembering a time long ago, and then quite abruptly and unexpectedly, they exploded. They were floating towards the ceiling and popped and fizzed and landed neatly again in her hand as if nothing had happened. Except, of course, that now everyone in the corridor was staring at her, including Ian, who was laughing in spite of himself. He had to comment, "That man must be a laugh riot at parties." Mared laughed as well and shook her head. "Is there a card?" he asked.

She shrugged, but then she found it, opening it warily in case it also exploded. She read it silently. "Dear Mared, Thank you for saving my son's head, neck, life, insert your own body part. Meet me for coffee tomorrow at 11. Same place. George." She smiled, and looked at Ian with a wink as he read over her shoulder.

"I thought I heard he got married."  
"He did. Married, two kids, divorced two years ago."

"Aren't you working tomorrow?"

"Not anymore. I feel quite unwell."

He laughed. "You do look a bit peaky."

**The next day**

Mared arrived fifteen minutes early to meet George. She was feeling strangely ill at ease about this. Part of her felt uncomfortable, but part of her felt exhilerated, as if they had just had coffee the day before. She sat at a brightly colored table in the back so she could see the people coming and going through the front door of the café. She didn't have to wait long for George to appear in the doorway. Oddly enough, he was also early, and he was carrying another bouquet of flowers, daffodils again. He smiled when he saw her, and walked right over. She stood up to greet him. They were both discomfited for a moment as neither knew what the other one expected as a greeting. They settled on a warm hug as his lips brushed against her forehead, making her quiver a little. "It's so good to see you," he breathed in her hair. "You still smell like hyacinth," he commented, turning her cheeks pink. He handed her the flowers.

"Daffodils," she remarked. "My favorites."

"I remember. I'll get the coffee. Or would you prefer tea?"

"Tea with milk and lots of sugar, please." She sat down again and waited for him to return, which did not take very long. The queue was quite short. It was a warm morning and people were looking for cold drinks or outside time. As soon as he sat down, she started adding the sugar as she spoke, "How have you been, George? Your kids are just beautiful. How old are they?"

"Cheers. Fred and Roxanne are both three. They're really great kids. Really unexpected as well."

"Yes, I was surprised. I'm sorry about your divorce. I guess it must be hard to get used to it. I mean you introduced Angelina as your wife, but your divorce is two years old."

"Yeah. Well, we actually never should have gotten married. She loved Fred so much. She missed him, and I was a poor substitute. I was missing you, and we drank too much one night, and…well, you can see." Their eyes met briefly, but then George looked into his cup, drinking the remainder of his coffee. "We started spending so much time together, preparing for Fred's arrival. Our mums both thought we should marry, so we did, but I think we always knew we would be divorced after he was born. We were always apart, and then Roxy was a surprise."

"That's quite a surprise. No one told you it was twins?"

"No," he laughed. "There must have been a two for one special in the nursery that day."

Mared grinned for a moment, remembering how enjoyable George's sense of humor was. "I'm sorry…about your relationship, that is. That's so sad. Where do the little ones live?"

"With Angelina and Jim, her husband, most of the time, but I spend a lot of time with them, especially if she's working, and they come to The Burrow almost every weekend. Angelina's parents live near her, so they see them quite a bit during the week."

"Your parents must be over the moon with the grandkids. How many do they have now?"

"Bill has two and my two and Percy just got married and they have one on the way, so that's four and a half. Ron's getting married very soon and I think Harry and Ginny are going to be the next down the aisle after that."

"It's very exciting in the Weasley household, eh?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Mum loves it. Do you have to work today?"

She grinned mischievously. "I actually skived off to meet you." She sipped her tea as he watched her and smiled.

"Skived off, did you?" He smiled approvingly. "Well, that deserves some reward. Let me see…I know! Why don't you return to the shop with me and I'll get you some Whiz Bangs for your nephews?"

"All right. They would love that."

As they left the café, he reached out and grasped her hand, unexpectedly. They walked hand in hand for a few more steps, but she withdrew hers, nervously, glancing at George. He led her into the shop, waving at Verity behind the counter. "I'll be back down soon," he called over to her as he held the curtain open for Mared to pass through and into the stock room. He handed her a Basic Blaze box of Whiz Bangs, but stopped abruptly. "Hang on. I have some new samplers upstairs in my flat. I'll throw them in. Dai can try them, and tell me what he thinks. Come on up," he said as he opened the door to the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, he tossed the box of fireworks on the counter, and fumbled around the cupboards, chucking about ten more on the counter top next to the box. He took off his outer robe, revealing his muggle clothes underneath and laid his robes over one of the stools.

As Mared glanced around the flat, she observed that it looked almost exactly the way she had last seen it four years ago. It was actually a little less messy, but his brother's bed was still covered with clothes, although now next to it, there was a baby's pram. "I would have thought, George, that in four years, you'd have cleaned up a bit. Or at least Angelina would have neatened you up."

"I only moved back in after we separated. I never spend time here. I bring the kids to The Burrow every weekend, and they live with Angelina. She and Jim just bought a house in the countryside. It's near her parents, which is great for everyone."

She smiled as he gathered all of the loose fireworks in a large sack and added the box as well. "I should go," she said reaching for the sack.

They were standing near each other, but not too close, and as their eyes met, George swallowed nervously, not wanting their meeting to end. He reached out his arm with the sack, but as she touched the burlap with the edges of her fingers, they both stopped as he opened his mouth as if to speak. At first, nothing came out, and she smiled at him kindly. "Please don't leave," he said quietly, and then he was kissing her. She took a step back, but he dropped the sack and took hold of her around her back, pulling her closer to him, continuing to probe her mouth with his tongue. She reached up, and they both thought for a moment when her palms rested on his shoulders that she would push him away, but then she put her arms around his neck and her hand in his hair and to his delight, she was responding and kissing him in return. It didn't take long for them to lose their clothes and find his bed. Their intensity was matched only by their mutual need, and when it was over, they were both out of breath, exhilarated and exhausted and flustered. Now what, would be the first question.

He was breathing laboriously as he rested his lips on her breast. He kissed her there as she turned her body to face him. She smiled as he looked up at her and she said quietly, "We should probably talk."

He laughed, "but not yet." His arms went around her and he moved closer, moving his mouth around her breasts and her neck as she began to take deep breaths. "I've missed you so," he breathed into her ear as his hands caressed her side and her back; his tongue flicking at the nearest nipple.

"George –"

"Shh." He brought his head higher and pressed his lips to hers, but she could feel him beginning to slow down. His breathing evened out as he consciously pulled back from her and smiled. "I'll stop if you want me to. We probably should really talk," he agreed.

She smiled and nodded, surprised, but pleased by his restraint. They sat up together, and when he would get up from the bed, she put her hand on his arm and leaned in close, kissing his mouth. "Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled as he got up and walked across the flat, slipping on his jeans and tossing Mared a shirt. She started to put it on. "This is yours," she laughed as she fastened the buttons anyway. It came down to her knees.

"You wear it well," he said, handing her a beer bottle.

"Cheers." She took a long drink, watching him. "Can I ask something?" He shrugged and then nodded. "You and Angelina – there's no hidden feelings for her?"

"We've been apart since right after the babies were born. We knew before they were born. She's been married to Jim for about eighteen months."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"We were always friends that took a wrong turn. We have two beautiful kids that we both love, but we were never in love. I've always loved you." She looked at him, startled. "I'm sorry to throw it at you like that, but I'm not wasting any more of my time with you. You're back here, and I don't expect to go back to where we were, but you need to know how I feel. I want to go forward; with you."

"I…I don't know…what to say. I need…I need some time." She looked at him sadly. "I've always cared about you, but I thought after all these years that you were gone to me. I need time."  
"Take as much as you need. I'll wait." He took her in his arms and kissed her gently, but as it lengthened so did the intensity of it. "You're worth waiting for."

Mared began to get dressed. She tucked his overlong shirt into her jeans, and put her jacket over it.

"Do you want coffee tomorrow?"

She smiled. "I can't. I can't skive off more than once this week. I've only just returned from France, and Chelsea still hates me. I'll send you an owl next week, okay?" He nodded and as she turned at the top of the stairs, George was beside her. He took her into his arms again, and she smiled up at him.

He nodded towards his bed. "I want that…I want it to be a new beginning. I have really missed you and your friendship." He kissed her, and beamed when she kissed him. He shivered when their tongues met, and she held him close for a long moment before leaving with her sack full of fireworks.

George found a new shirt and entered his store front as Mared disapparated from the bottom step of his flat. Verity and Ron were both behind the counter. "What are you still doing here?" he asked Ron. "I thought you're with the Ministry full time now?"

"Yeah, I am. Didn't Fred find you?"

George had been reaching for a quill box, but stopped short. "What?"

"Fred – he went up to look for you when we got here. Are you all right George?" George looked stricken, and quickly ran back up the stairs to his flat, calling.

"Fred, Freddie, are you up here?" George looked behind the counter, under his bed, in the loo. "Fred, come on out," he said gently. "I know you're here somewhere." Finally, Fred crawled out from under his namesake's bed. George smiled down at his son. "Why are you hiding under there?"

"I scared."

George swallowed. "Why would you be scared?"

"You-" He pointed to his father's bed. George closed his eyes and took a deep breath that held a lifetime of regrets. Fred spoke again. "You – who was that?"

"My friend. You met her at St. Mungo's. She made your head better. Remember?"

Fred nodded. "Your head hurt?"

George was able to laugh warily. "No, my head's fine. Mared's my friend. We were just…playing."

Fred smiled and jumped into his father's arms, hugging him tightly. George kissed him on his cheek and his head, and they went down to the shop and Uncle Ron.


End file.
